Look Dad, Dogwood!

Driving down Bryan Blvd back in the mid 90's... with a child of 3 or 4 in the back seat... I would hear over and over again... "Look Dad, Dogwood."

We had taught Kent, my oldest son, what the Dogwood looked like. He looked for the white flowers draped over yards and that stood alone in a grove of yet-to-bloom wild trees.



I didn't grow up in the south. But now I can't imagine a spring without these beautiful blossoms.
After months of colorless winter the blossoms seem to glow. It's as if there are bright lights shining from within.

My father loved flowers. Our backyard was fenced with Lilacs. We planted Petunias, Marigolds, and other perennials around the house. Heber City, Utah wasn't most lush (compared to the south) but spring was a very special time for my father. I know he traveled to the south before he passed away several years ago but I don't know if he got to see the wonder that is Dogwood Season.

So, to the man who always had a shining light inside. I say.... Look Dad.. Dogwood.